She sits in a corner, sunlight filling the space that surrounds her, silently watching the faces blur past, like apparitions in a crowd. These people always looking in but not a soul knows who she really is. She sets a smile on her face, trying not to seem out of place.
Saying nothing, she quietly waits for something beyond her reach, always pining over the unattainable. Trying only to lean upon herself for the support that she needs, she can feel the pressure closing in. All-the-while, still smiling on the outside, acting as if nothing is wrong.
She shows no-one who she really is, how she really feels, or what she really thinks, afraid to show any true emotions. Hiding behind a brilliant smile, she puts up an invisible wall, never letting anyone past.
I will always remember looking into your eyes that early July morning.
The Florida heat already beating down upon us, even though the sun had just peaked over the horizon.
We spent the entire night awake, talking, laughing, and just laying with each other in silence at times. But even in silence, I was content.
You were facing towards the newly rising sun, my back against it. Your face glowed in a yellow-orange haze.
Your eyes, a shimmering blue with yellowish green speckles that flashed in the bright morning lights.
I have never seen anything more beautiful.
I’m not sure why this moment remains so vivid in my mind. Nothing in particular happened, or was said.
All I know is that I was happy, standing there, in front of you, in the iridescent light, on that early July morning.
I miss you.
Words can’t even begin to describe how much that is true.
It’s been six years.
Six years without your voice, your smell, your smile, your laugh, but most of all your shoulder to lean on.
Six years. It feels like so much more than that.
You never had the chance to meet the friends who got me through those years.
You never had the chance to meet my first boyfriend or any there-after
You never had the chance to watch as I got ready for Homecoming or Senior Prom or to worry when I wasn’t home by my curfew.
You never had the chance to watch me wear my cap and gown and walk across the stage as I shook hands with the principle and grabbed my diploma.
I wish so much that you had been in the audience that day.
You won’t be in the audience when I do the same for college.
You won’t be able to meet my future husband or to watch me walk down the aisle.
You won’t be there when I have children.
I won’t ever see you again. Nothing can change that.
There will always be a void feeling in my life. That something is missing.
And of course, there is.
It is just part of life. I have coped and moved on.
But I will always miss you. More than words can describe.
You left me alone. No one to lean on. No one to laugh with, cry with, fight with. No one at all.
You left me broken. I am no longer whole. I tried to piece myself back together but still, little bits of me are missing.
You left me afraid. Afraid to chase after the things I want, afraid of putting myself out there. I can’t tell others how I feel. I am afraid to say what I am thinking.
But most of all,
You left me with doubt. Doubt about everything. Am I good enough? Will I find someone? Can I be loved? Doubt fills my mind, always.
You left me.
I watched you go.
Not a word was said.
A simple hug goodbye, that’s all I was left with.
I’m not sure where we left off.
Are we friends? are we more?
I’m certain we are not.
That’s not to say, I don’t want us to be.
I watched you go.
I didn’t say anything,
You hugged me, tightly.
I miss that.
You have been away for a while now.
But I still think of you everyday.
I miss you.
But, I am too afraid to tell you that.
I watched you go.
And said nothing.
I build myself up, just to watch myself fall.
It’s unclear to me who you are anymore.
Times have changed.
So have you.
But then again, so have I.
Maybe, one day I will know you again
Maybe one day, we can be friends.
Maybe one day, we can talk like we used to.
Maybe one day, we will laugh together.
Maybe one day, we will share our secrets.
Maybe, that one day will never come.
